CLUTCHES OF THE BLANK ROOM
Built in the head like a software program,
The blank whiteness pop-up like a hologram,
Nobody to give out worthy explanations,
Just you walking around in circles with no definite directions.
A shield away from multiple worlds,
A medium that enhances the use of lesser words,
Absolutely clouding the mind with abysmal point of views,
Awaiting the moment those views would start paying their dues.
Enhancement of potential distance from help,
Extreme blockage from taking the right step,
Everything seems meaningless at this point,
Every motivational morale loses away to the disjoint.
No emergency exit to escape through,
The coronation of insanity is almost due,
The clutches of depression is at its prime,
The chances of death is all but a matter of time.
Temitope Omotoso
YOU ARE READING
BLASPHEMY OR INJUSTICE
PoetryBLASPHEMY OR INJUSTICE is a poetry collection about rare opinions on the reality, truth, and fiction surrounding the mysterious existence of life. As the author of this masterpiece, my theoretical knowledge explains my comprehension on the highs and...
